Love and Cleaning
by LooksLikeNico
Summary: Written in response to a challenge (details inside) - a day in the life of Anya at the Magic Box.


Written for a challenge on .  
  
That you (as the writer), take an existing character and show me the events of their day. HOWEVER! Certain events do have to be written in there, for my enjoyment!  
  
- He/she has to battle something that's terrified them for quite a while.  
  
- He/she finds him/herself attracted to someone they would have never found themselves attracted to.  
  
- Someone has to say at some point, "I wish I had superpowers."  
  
- The ending isn't very final, which means it can leave a lot open to suggestion.  
  
And this was what I came up with:-  
  
(Oh, and I apologise about the terrible title – I suck at titles!)  
  
Anya's eyes flickered open as the alarm went off. Rolling over, she flung out an arm and poked Xander's sleeping form.  
  
"Honey," she said sleepily.  
  
Xander moaned.  
  
"Xander," she said, more forcefully as she woke up further, the alarm continuing its regular and incessant beeping.  
  
"Wha'?" was her only reply.  
  
"Switch the alarm off, sweetie," she moaned at him, wondering why the beeping noise wouldn't stop.  
  
Heaving a sigh Xander sat up in bed and reached over her body to press the large button on the side of the alarm clock just next to the still prone form of his semi-conscious girlfriend.  
  
"Oh, thank goodness – I never thought that thing was going to stop," she said with relief, turning to face a now wide-awake Xander. "You really should get one of those alarm clocks that you can shout at and it shuts up. That beeping noise is so irritating."  
  
"Normal people just turn over and switch it off and don't lie there waiting for someone else to wake up and do it," he growled.  
  
"Xander..." Anya moaned petulantly, changing the subject.  
  
"What now, Ahn?" he asked with resignation.  
  
"You know what..."  
  
"God, not this again Ahn!" he exclaimed with exasperation.  
  
"Please, sweetie...?" she wheedled.  
  
"I still think that you're being..." Xander trailed off as he saw the look on her face and swung himself out of bed, knowing he didn't have the heart to deny her.  
  
"Thank you, Xander," she said sweetly.  
  
"Yeah, whatever," Xander mumbled as he walked to the other side of the room and retrieved the vacuum cleaner from the storage cupboard. Plugging the device into the wall socket, he proceeded to vacuum the carpet.  
  
"Don't forget under the bed!" Anya exclaimed, sitting up in bed to make sure he cleaned properly.  
  
"Right, yeah – under the bed – how cold I possibly forget," Xander grumbled, angling the vacuum cleaner to cover the spotlessly clean area under the large bed.  
  
Anya sighed with honest relief and smiled up at Xander as he placed the vacuum cleaner back in the cupboard.  
  
"Thank you sweetie," she said, bouncing out of bed and hugging him, running her hands across his chest whilst biting her bottom lip and looking up at him from beneath hooded lids. Xander saw the look which passed across her face and shook his head.  
  
"Not now, Ahn – I gotta go to work," he said, extricating her from his embrace and moving to get dressed.  
  
Anya flung herself back onto the bed, pouting. "Not fair," she called to his back as he retreated towards the bathroom.  
  
The shop was quiet – silent even. The only sound was the swish of the newspaper as Anya slowly scanned the pages, wondering when the first customer of the day would arrive.  
  
Giles wasn't due in for another few minutes and Anya didn't even glance at the ticking clock hung on the wall at the other side of the Magic Box to see if he was running on time.  
  
"More likely that the clock would be slow that Mr Punctuality would be even a second late," she mumbled to herself as she flicked through the 'Wanted' section of the paper, snorting in surprise and disgust at the thing people actually wanted to buy and which they were expecting to find someone to pay actual money to take off their hands.  
  
The doorbell rang at exactly 10:00 am as Giles walked through the front door, shrugging off his jacket and running a hand through his hair.  
  
"Morning, Anya – many customers?" he asked as he made his way across the empty shop towards the counter.  
  
"None," she said, without looking up. "How they expect us to run a shop in this so-called capitalist society when people refuse to actually enter the said premises and browse and or purchase items contained therein is beyond me."  
  
"Yes, well. It's called 'freedom of choice' and I believe that it is one of the precepts of a capitalist society, Anya."  
  
"Hmm, well, someone definitely screwed up when they thought of that one then," she said, finally looking up from her paper. "And this!" she exclaimed, screwing the newspaper up into a ball and brandishing it at him. "They call this news? Who ever came up with that particular definition needs to be bought a dictionary – this isn't news! It's trash – and that's where it's going!" With that, she turned and threw the balled up newspaper towards the bin behind the counter, where it neatly bounced off the rubbish which was spilling out of the top of the waste basket and landed on the floor. Giles followed its trajectory.  
  
"Yes. Anya – that's something I've been meaning to discuss with you for quite some time now," Giles said, hesitantly.  
  
"And what is that?" she asked. "Are we finally going to discuss the subject of my well-earned pay-rise? I have been working hard for you for quite some time now and I am led to believe that honest endeavour is normally rewarded with monetary compensation."  
  
"No, Anya, this isn't about a pay-rise," Giles said slowly.  
  
"What! Do you not think that my efforts here have been good enough? Have I not implemented sufficient money and or labour saving techniques to ensure the running of your business is more efficient thus allowing you to enjoy and reap the rewards of increased profit?"  
  
"Yes, well, that may be the case, but," said Giles, taking off his glasses and cleaning them on a clean handkerchief he had extracted from his pocket.  
  
"Then, this is about me receiving a well earned pay-rise," Anya concluded gleefully.  
  
"No, Anya, that's not what I'm talking about," Giles said with exasperation. "Though we may be able to talk about it later," he amended with resignation after seeing the look on her face.  
  
"Then what is it you would like to speak to me about, oh extremely generous employer?" Anya asked sweetly.  
  
"That," Giles responded, indicating the over flowing rubbish bin.  
  
"Ah, indeed – I have been thinking that the waste bins could do with being emptied," she agreed with him.  
  
"And the shelves need dusting and the floor hoovering..." Giles hinted.  
  
"Yes, it really should be seen to," Anya agreed.  
  
"Anya?" Giles asked slowly.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Do I need to remind you that cleaning the shop, emptying the waste, dusting the shelves and vacuuming the floor is part of your job?"  
  
"Oh, not any more," Anya replied, unconcernedly.  
  
Giles frowned. "What do you mean 'not any more'? I distinctly remember a conversation when I first opened this shop when I was talking about employing a cleaner and you – let me see if I remember this correctly – you said something along the lines of, 'You don't want to employ some sub-standard, over-paid, old woman to wave a duster about aimlessly when you could simply pay me increased wages and I would happily undertake the cleaning of the shop for an extra payment at a market-competitive rate'."  
  
"Well, that was then. I don't do cleaning anymore," Anya said, counting the money in the cash register for the third time this morning.  
  
Their conversation was interrupted by the tinkling of the shop bell as a customer entered. Anya watched from the counter as Giles walked across the room to help the young woman who was looking distinctly lost within the shop. She shook her head – some people just didn't seem to belong in a magic shop.  
  
"She didn't buy anything then?" Anya asked as Giles returned to the counter and the young woman left.  
  
"And what gave that away, Anya? The fact that she didn't come to buy anything or the fact she left empty-handed?" Giles asked with exasperation.  
  
"Hey, no need to take this thing out on me! I am simply a humble employee and I have legal rights you know – you have to be good to me!" Anya proclaimed.  
  
"Anya, the day that you let me forget that is the day I..." he trailed off. "Oh, never mind." He paused. "So, about the cleaning," he said, eventually.  
  
"I thought we had discussed this," Anya said, irritably. "I am no longer doing the cleaning, you will hire a cleaner."  
  
"But, why?" Giles asked, obviously confused.  
  
"What is this – the Spanish Inquisition?" Anya shouted suddenly. "It is perfectly clear that I cannot possibly be expected to clean here anymore and you, as the reasonable employer you have so far proved to be, should respect that and thus employ a cleaner to take over those tasks."  
  
"Whilst, of course, discussing your forthcoming and obviously deserved pay-rise," Giles added, dryly.  
  
"The subject of my remuneration for services rendered is, of course, a completely separate matter – I thought you would have realised that," Anya said, as if talking to a small child.  
  
"Of course, how could I have been so foolish?"  
  
Giles breathed a sigh of relief as the door went once more and Xander entered. The entrance of the young man meant only one thing – it was lunchtime and he would have some distraction from the admittedly stranger than usual Anya. The shop had been quiet for most of the morning and she had been acting more than oddly with her sudden and random declarations about cleaning and payment.  
  
"Xander!" Giles said, walking towards the other man, an over bright smile fixed on his face.  
  
Xander looked round the room and took in the over-flowing bins and Giles' harassed expression and shrugged at the older man.  
  
"Ahh – so it's spread to here too? Bad luck, G-Man," he consoled, patting Giles on the back.  
  
"So, you know what this is all about then?" Giles asked, hoping that he had finally found someone who could give him an explanation.  
  
"Yes, indeed I do – and I have to admit that it's probably my fault," Xander said his voice dropping as he drew Giles away from Anya to a corner of the shop.  
  
"And..."  
  
"We were talking before the weekend and, well, I can't actually for the life of me remember how we got onto the conversation, but I, well, I mentioned the fact that those little dust balls you get under the bed and under shelving and stuff? I mentioned that they were called – well – dust bunnies."  
  
"Dust bunnies?" Giles asked, not understanding.  
  
"Yep. Dust bunnies," he repeated, seriously, nodding his head.  
  
"And how is this connected to the fact that Anya has suddenly proclaimed she won't do one of the tasks she basically begged me for when I gave her this job?"  
  
Xander looked at the watcher in disbelief. "This is Anya we're talking about here! You know, 'bunnies are the spawn of Satan – don't mention them in my presence' Anya? And they're dust bunnies! Well, she completely freaked – and it's just got worse – you realise that she won't get out of bed in the morning until I've vacuumed under the bed? She's apparently afraid that the 'bunnies' might come out and attack her! She's driving me crazy!"  
  
"Dust bunnies..." Giles repeated in disbelief. "This whole thing is about the slang name for little balls of dust that before now she never really gave a second thought to?"  
  
"I know – believe me I know!" Xander groaned, shaking his head in despair.  
  
Anya chose that moment to look up at the two men stand whispering together in the corner. She frowned at them. "Xander – aren't you going to come and talk to me? I've been stuck in this shop all day and there's been hardly anyone come in." She looked at Giles. "And no offence, Giles, but a girl needs some variety in the people she talks to."  
  
Xander smiled sheepishly at Giles, who simply shook his head – more than used by this time to the somewhat brash and careless comments of his sole employee. Xander walked across the shop and leant against the counter. "See me being here, Ahn."  
  
"Good. Now, where are you taking me out to lunch?" Anya asked forthrightly.  
  
"Where am I taking you what to huh?" Xander babbled.  
  
"Where are you taking me out to lunch? I want to go out to lunch and you, being the man of the relationship, should buy me lunch."  
  
"I thought you had this whole spiel about being a 'modern woman' and wanting to be treated equally in our relationship?"  
  
"Yes, but that doesn't include the fact that you pay for all meals, of course, silly," Anya said.  
  
"Right, of course," Xander sighed realising that he would probably never understand the way Anya's mind worked. "Come on then."  
  
"I'll, well, I suppose that I'll just look for a cleaner in your absence then, should I?" Giles asked, as much to himself as to the couple who quickly disappeared out of the back door of the Magic Box. With a sigh, he retrieved the paper from the floor to start the hunt.  
  
Giles looked up as he heard the back door shut, signalling Anya's return. "Xander not with you then?" he asked as the woman walked along into the shop and took her regular seat at the counter near the till.  
  
"No, he said that he had to get back to work," she said with a gloomy sigh.  
  
"You okay?" Giles asked with some concern – normally Anya was all smiles after she'd returned from a lunch she'd managed to talk Xander into paying for.  
  
"I'm fine," she replied. "But," she continued after a short pause. "Why aren't men romantic?" she asked.  
  
"Romantic?"  
  
"Yes? Why can't they do romantic things – Xander only ever takes me out to lunch when I suggest it, never when it's actually his idea. And he never buys me flowers unless I ask for them and he doesn't even tell me how nice I look unless I spend ages giving not-so-subtle hints first," she moaned, dropping her head to rest on her hands, cupping her chin.  
  
"Well, er, I'm not generally the best person to ask for advice in these matters – or so I have been told, anyway. But, possibly, I might suggest that if you didn't suggest lunch, dinner and flowers so very often, you may actually give Xander enough time to recover his bank balance enough for it to be his idea," Giles said carefully.  
  
Anya looked up. "You think so?" she asked cheerfully, before returning to her former despondent frame of mind. "No, that would never work."  
  
Giles looked helpless for a moment, before deciding that the easiest way to deal with this was to change the subject. "I obtained some quotes for cleaning staff," he said, pushing a piece of paper towards the currently blonde woman.  
  
Anya stared at the scrap of paper for a moment, seemingly lost for words.  
  
"How much!" she exclaimed suddenly, looking up at Giles in disbelief.  
  
"Quite," Giles replied. "And believe me when I tell you that they were the more reasonable prices I obtained.  
  
"Oh no! Absolutely not! This is ridiculous! You cannot pay those prices, it's extortion, that's what it is – and I said that I was changing you a reasonable market rate. Never before have I knowingly under-priced my services in such a manner," she fumed.  
  
"So, may I take that as an indication that you would be willing to resume your former post and duties, Anya?" Giles said, successfully hiding a smile.  
  
"Oh yes! And I'm going to start right now!" Anya stood up from her position, grabbed a feather duster from under the counter and marched towards one of the bookshelves at the other side of the shop.  
  
Giles seated himself in Anya's vacated seat and crossed his arms, forcing himself to keep a serious face at the sight of Anya, wrath emanating from her in waves, brandishing the old-fashioned feather duster that they so very rarely used, except on the most delicate of items, at the shelves, at first scarcely touching them as she worked her way downwards to the lowest shelf.  
  
Anya brushed the delicately along the lowest shelf, muttering to herself. "Must be evil if they hide in dark places. This is the Hellmouth, who knows what horrible things have happened to what would have anywhere else been perfectly innocent balls of dust? What if they've turned into some giant dust bunny monster and what if it comes out and attacks me – then they'd be sorry. And I'm only human now so I wouldn't even be able to fight it. I wish I had superpowers!"  
  
Finally, she felt she could put it off no longer and, reaching timidly under the bottom shelf, she ran the duster along the floor, sweeping the dust out into the open. Powered by the draft caused by the motion of the duster, the dust bunnies accelerated towards the open floor.  
  
It was at that moment that Anya realised that she was not only standing on the floor, but that she was brushing them directly towards her legs.  
  
She squealed and dropped the duster, jumping backwards, out of the path of the small balls of grey dust that were rolling across the floor – seemingly harmless to the eyes of the rest of the world.  
  
Her grand leap to safety was planned with precision and split timing to mean that she landed gracefully and safety just out of the path of the on-coming dust bunnies. Unfortunately, in her split-second planning, Anya had omitted to account for the positioning of the chair behind her and she ended up catching her leg on the chair back and catapulting herself backwards to land in an inelegant heap of limbs.  
  
Giles bit back a laugh as she picked herself up off the floor – the only thing hurt seemed to be her pride. He decided that he'd watched her suffer enough and coughed to attract her attention.  
  
"Anya?" he asked, trying hard not to smile.  
  
"Yes?" she asked with an air of nonchalance as she smoothed her clothes and blew a stay piece of hair out of her face.  
  
"You know, normal people do tend to use a vacuum cleaner when doing the floor," he said, indicating the small storage cupboard.  
  
Anya walked towards the cupboard to retrieve the cleaner. "Talking about 'normal people'," she mumbled to herself, making sure it was just loud enough for Giles to hear. "Just because I'm an ex-demon. It's discrimination all this going on about 'normal' people and suggesting that I'm not a 'normal' person. I might just go out and start an anti-ex-demon-discrimination network. I can't be the only repressed worker out there."  
  
Giles groaned and shook his head. "Right, I'm going downstairs to catalogue the, er, Weandle Root... Or something," he declared in exasperation as he walked towards the storeroom.  
  
Anya unhooked the tube from the vacuum cleaner and switched the power on. Ensuring that this time she was standing well back from the evil and demonic... "No, not demonic," she chastised herself. "That would be discriminating against and making assumptions about the evil or non-evilness of demons and that would be against the tenants of my as-just-unofficial anti-ex-demon-discrimination network that I may or may not feel the need to form in the near future. Evil and possibly rabid – yes that's a suitable word. Evil and rabid dust bunnies."  
  
So, ensuring that she was stood well back from the evil and rabid dust bunnies, Anya pointed the nozzle of the vacuum at one timorously. She smiled to herself as she watched it disappear up the tube and appear in the clear plastic container at the cleaner's base. With more confidence, she moved onto the next ball and laughed as it too disappeared up the tube after its twin.  
  
"Ha ha! Take that you small grey fuzzy ball of pure bunniness!" she proclaimed as she spun round to savagely and gleefully attack the next ball of dust. With a manic grin on her face, she moved across the shop. No corner of the floor was ignored as she hunted the bunnies down one at a time, shouting triumphantly as each one followed its predecessors to its plastic grave.  
  
As she removed the final ball from under a shelf, she spun round, brandishing the vacuum tube like a sword. Looking for another area to attack and clear of evil balls of possibly possessed dust.  
  
She saw the jar start to fall as she hit it with the tube and leapt forward to catch it before it hit the ground.  
  
She didn't make it.  
  
The powered root had been kept in a large, but relatively fragile, glass jar – Giles' idea, Anya contemplated later on when she had a chance to reflect upon the fact that he really didn't have a clue sometimes. The immediate result, however, was an almighty crash as the jar hit the floor and exploded.  
  
Coughing and choking on the powdered root, Anya looked down at herself, covered as she was in a thin layer of powder. Her eyes travelled further downwards to the scattered remnants of the jar and its contents and focused on the jar's label which had miraculously remained intact and was now lying pristinely white on the top of the settling pile of powder, face up.  
  
"Oh, shit!" Anya exclaimed, desperately brushing at her arms and clothes, the vacuum cleaner now lying dormant and ignored as she tried to remove the particles from her skin.  
  
"Anya? What was that Crash? Are you alright?" Giles' voice floated up from the basement.  
  
Anya froze, wide eyed, her hands stilled half way through a sweep down her body, before she spun to face the open door to the basement.  
  
"I... I'm fine!" she shouted, the edge of panic clear in her voice. "Just, whatever you do – don't come upstairs!"  
  
"What's happened?" Giles called, warily.  
  
Anya moved towards the front door of the shop to lock it. "Nothing, it's fine. Just dropped something, that's all!"  
  
She had almost reached the door and had started to think that everything would be alright when the bell went and a customer entered.  
  
"What did you drop?" Giles asked.  
  
"Nothing important, just, just don't come up – please," Anya begged as she turned to the door.  
  
"Hi," the short young man who walked through the door said, nervously, as he was confronted by a green-tinged Anya standing directly in front of him.  
  
"Oh, great!" Anya exclaimed, throwing her hands up into the air. "This is all I need – I spill a jar of crushed gratone seed all over me and the next guy I see has to be you..." she said, her irritated tone softening towards the end of the sentence and her mouth curling upwards into a smile as she slowly approached the man.  
  
"I'm sorry, what do you mean?" he said, frowning in confusion and uncertainly taking a small step back as Anya sidled up to him.  
  
"Why, Jonathan, did you not know that crushed gratone seed is a very useful substance for many spells, but it has a somewhat unfortunate side effect should you get it on your skin," she purred as she moved closer to him, staring down into his eyes.  
  
Jonathan backed up until his back was against the door of the shop, unnerved by Anya's behaviour. He jumped as she reached out a hand and ran it through his hair. He swallowed and knew that he had to ask the question, as much as he was sure that he wouldn't like the answer.  
  
"Er, what's the side effect?" he asked.  
  
"It makes you find the very next person you see unaccountably attractive. Did I ever tell you that I find short people incredibly sexy?" she asked, pushing her body up against his.  
  
"Anya, I, er, well..." Jonathan stuttered, looking desperately from side to side to see if there was anywhere else he could move to, but he was effectively trapped – the door behind him, the wall to his left and the shelf against the shop display window to his right.  
  
"I think I should tell you," she continued, ignoring his protests and blocking his attempts to move past her. "This is solely caused by the effect of the herb. I am fully committed to Xander, for all his failings, it's just that, right now, I find you to be simply gorgeous."  
  
She leant down to kiss him, but was brought up short by a hand which grasped her shoulder, wrenching her backwards and away from the cowering youth.  
  
"Anya! What the bloody hell is going on?" Giles asked loudly as Jonathan turned and fled the shop, the door slamming behind him, causing the shop bell to tinkle loudly for several minutes. Giles took in the dishevelled Anya and the forgotten mess on the floor behind her. He walked over to the pile of glass and debris and bend down, picking the white piece of card off the floor. He groaned as he read the words inscribed there on and turned to face the girl who was staring out of the shop and down the street after the rapidly disappearing form. "Anya," he said.  
  
"How could I never have noticed him before?" the young woman sighed.  
  
"Anya! You know very well that you don't really find him attractive – now come on!" Giles said firmly, dragging Anya away from the door and across the shop towards the training room.  
  
"But, but, he's so..." she trailed off with a sigh.  
  
"Oh, God – it's getting worse. How the hell am I going to explain this to Xander?" Giles groaned as he managed to manhandle her across the training room to the shower cubicle they'd installed in a small room at the back of the shop.  
  
"I have to go after him!" Anya exclaimed, trying to loosen herself from Giles' grip.  
  
"No you don't – you have to wash that stuff off you so that the effects wear off!" Giles told her, throwing her, fully clothed, into the stall and turning the water on full. he ignored Anya's screams of protests as he slammed the door shut and walked back into the shop to tend the counter.  
  
"I borrowed some of Buffy's spare clothes," Anya said sheepishly as she walked out into the shop some time later, her hair dripping wet and her face now devoid of make-up.  
  
"I'll let her know – I'm sure you will return them tomorrow," Giles said, not looking up from his book.  
  
"I'm sorry, Giles – I'll clean the mess up."  
  
"Already done, Anya."  
  
"Oh."  
  
"Now, I think it's best that you go home and have a lie down. And think about what you're going to say to Xander if by any chance he hears about what happened today," he said calmly.  
  
"You wouldn't..." Anya aked, horrified.  
  
"No I wouldn't – but this is a fairly small town and gossip does tend to spread."  
  
"Oh," Anya said sombrely. "I'll just, go home then."  
  
"I'll see you tomorrow."  
  
"Yes, see you tomorrow."  
  
"Don't be late."  
  
"No," she mumbled as she walked out of the door and down the street, lost in thought.  
  
"Anya?" Xander called as he walked in through the front door. The hallway and longue were in total darkness and it was unusual for her not to be home before he was. "You here?"  
  
"In the bedroom," he heard her call.  
  
He wandered towards their bedroom slowly, wondering what to expect – that was one of the things he loved about his girl, no matter how long he knew her, she never stopped surprising him. He walked into the bedroom and stopped short by the door.  
  
Anya was sitting on the bed, fully clothed, a look of contrition on her face.  
  
"Ahn, what's wrong?" he asked with genuine concern, moving to sit next to her.  
  
"Oh, Xander, I'm sorry," she said, seriously.  
  
"For what?" he asked slowly, wondering what she could have done to cause her to react like this.  
  
"I realised today that I take you for granted. I was moaning to Giles that you were unromantic and never surprised me with nice things or complimented me and that you just didn't appreciate me, but now I know that I'm lucky to have you and that I could have fallen in love with someone much worse and that I should really appreciate you for who you are," she said, before drawing him into a hug.  
  
"Thanks – I think," Xander said uncertainly.  
  
"Yes, I really should appreciate you and I just wanted you to know that, even if you don't tell me how lovely I look or buy me expensive and luxurious gifts I know that you mean it in your heart and it's just that you are occasionally thoughtless, but I appreciate the fact that that is a failing of men in general and not of you specifically and thus I will not hold it against you."  
  
"Er, right..." he said, nit sure whether that was meant as a compliment or not.  
  
"And to show you how much I appreciate you I am going to give you lots of delicious orgasms," she concluded.  
  
"Now that I can deal with," Xander said happily. "What brought on this sudden rush of contrition, anyway?"  
  
"Oh, just, well, it doesn't matter," she mumbled, fumbling with his clothes.  
  
"Ahn?" Xander asked inquisitively.  
  
"There was a thing, but I'm over it now. Yep, totally, totally over it," she said in a tone that almost sounded like she was attempting to convince herself. "Definitely..." 


End file.
